


The Talisman

by hulettwyo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hulettwyo/pseuds/hulettwyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams… they can be fun and… informative.</p>
<p>This started out as a porny one-off then went and grew a bit of a plot. There are three chapters and it takes place just before the sexcapades of Season Six then goes AU. Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Officer

The Talisman

Chapter One – The Officer

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The loud sound of a fist banging against the door echoed through the crypt. Spike startled then looked over his shoulder at the door with a scowl. “Oh, bloody hell! Can't a bloke just watch his soddin’ telly in peace?” He growled as he stalked toward the door, his mouth winding up to unleash a vicious tongue lashing on whoever dared disturb him. He jerked the door open then squinted against a bright beam of light aimed directly at his eyes. “Oi! Turn that thing off! Blind a fella, why don’t you?”

The flashlight clicked off and he blinked as spots danced across his vision. The owner of the light smiled and apologized. “Sorry, sir.” A badge was whipped out and held up in front of his face. “Sunnydale PD, sir. I'm looking for someone by the name of Spike. I was told I could find him here.”

Spike rubbed his eyes and grumbled. “You've got him. What do you want?”

The badge was tucked away. “May I come in, sir?”

He stepped back from the door then bowed and waved dramatically. “Be my soddin’ guest.”

“Thank you.” The officer walked slowly into the crypt, carefully looking everything over, and stopped next to Spike’s ratty old armchair.

Spike said from his position near the door, “Again… what do you want?”

The officer turned to face him wearing a pleasant smile. “We've had reports of stolen items being stored in cemetery crypts before they're sold illegally. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, sir?”

Spike smiled his most innocent smile and shook his head as he pushed the door closed. “No, I wouldn’t. ‘M a law abidin’ bloke. Pure as the driven snow, me.”

The officer chuckled and looked around the crypt again. “Of course you are. That’s why you can produce receipts for all of your possessions, right?”

Spike faltered, “Uh… receipts? Um… yeah… just have to pop downstairs for a mo’. You’ll just wait here then?” 

The officer held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary, sir. I already know that every item in here is stolen property, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in for questioning.”

Spike snorted. “Take me in, eh? Sorry, luv, but you don't know who you’re dealin’ with.” He stalked close to the officer with a leer on his face. “Pretty little thing like you out here all by yourself in the lair of dangerous criminal.” He stopped next to her and growled low in his chest as he trailed his fingertips lightly up her arm. “You could get hurt.”

Her hand whipped out lightning fast and snagged his wrist then she spun him and twisted his arm up behind his back before shoving him toward the nearest wall. “I can take care of myself, sir.” She captured his other arm and twisted it behind him, pressing him hard against the stone. “And you just assaulted a police officer.”

He sputtered, “Assault? I barely touched you! Bloody bint, you’re out of your tree. Let me go!”

She kicked his feet further apart and moved his hands to a position on the stone wall above his head. “I need to frisk you for weapons, sir. Now… are you going to be a good boy or do I have to add resisting arrest?”

He ducked his head and peeked at her around his raised arm. She had backed off him just a few steps and was standing there with her hip cocked out as she fingered the butt of her pistol. He grumbled, “I’ll stand quietly. Just get on with it, yeah?” then muttered under his breath, “Why do I always get the barmy ones? I’m like flypaper for nutters.”

She stepped up behind him and placed her hands lightly on his shoulders then slid them slowly down his back to his waist. She quickly untucked his t-shirt and slipped her hands underneath then slid them around to his stomach, her nails dragging lightly across his muscled abdomen. He yelped, “Oi! What’re you doing?”

She leaned up and whispered in his ear, “Frisking you. Now shut up.” Her hands moved north and skated across his nipples then stopped to pinch and squeeze. 

He dropped his head, pressing his forehead into the stone wall as a low moan escaped his lips. “Find anythin’ yet?”

A vicious twist of one nipple drew a sharp gasp as she dug her nails into its twin and snarled menacingly, “I told you to shut up.”

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s more like it.” Her hands trailed back down across his stomach and settled on the large bulge in the front of his jeans. She squeezed with one hand and smiled at the low groan from her prisoner. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Looks like you’re packing.” She squeezed once more then stepped back. “Strip.”

“What?” Spike lifted his hands away from the wall and turned around, coming face to face with the business end of her pistol. 

“I said strip. Now.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You know that won’t kill me, right?”

She shrugged, “Maybe not, but it’ll turn your head into a canoe, and that would be a shame, considering how pretty you are.” She waved the gun. “Strip.”

He grumbled as he uncrossed his arms then tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it to the dusty floor. His hand hovered over the buttons of his jeans as he looked up at her. “You sure?”

She nodded and her tongue slipped out to lick her lips. “Strip then face the wall. Hands up and feet spread.”

He mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” then popped the buttons, skinning his jeans off in a fluid, practiced movement. He stood up straight, his chest puffing out as her eyes skimmed over him and came to rest on the large erection jutting out proudly from his nest of honey blonde curls. He lifted a hand and slid it sensually down his chest. “See anythin’ you like, luv?”

She swallowed audibly and croaked out, “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

He turned slowly and raised his hands back to the wall as he spread his feet. “Now what? You can plainly see I’ve no weapons… ‘cept the obvious.”

She holstered her pistol and stepped up behind him, pressing herself into his back. One hand slipped around to his front and gripped his cock firmly as she licked his ear and whispered, “Guess I’ll have to do a body cavity search. You might be hiding something.”

He shuddered and groaned as her hand moved on him slowly. “Bloody hell. ‘M not hidin’ anythin’, and I don’t think this is quite proper procedure.”

She let go and backed up a step. “I’m in charge here and I decide what’s procedure and what isn’t, so shut up and just stand there.” He heard the unmistakable snap of a rubber glove and the soft snick of a tube being opened then she was back up against him, one hand wrapped around his throbbing cock while the other trailed slowly between his cheeks. 

He felt a lubed finger breach his tight pucker and hissed in pleasure as it stroked in and out slowly. “Might want to look a little deeper, luv. Never know what you’ll find.” A second finger joined the first, skating over his prostate and he moaned loudly. “Yeah, just like that.”

She worked her fingers, making sure to bump his prostate on every thrust while her other hand pumped his shaft. He was panting and grunting as he thrust first into her fist then back against her hand, his fingertips digging divots into the hard stone wall. His balls drew up and he came hard, his shout of ecstasy ringing through the crypt as white, ropy spurts of cum splashed against the wall and dripped down to puddle on the floor.

She pulled her fingers out and spun him around then planted her other hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him up against the wall. “Stay there. I’m not finished with you.” He leaned against the wall with his head back and his eyes closed as he breathed deeply, still coming down from his powerful orgasm. He heard the snap of the glove being removed, then the clink and slither of her pistol belt. The belt hit the floor with a thump and his eyes flew open as a handcuff was snapped around his left wrist. 

Before he could react, his right wrist was locked into the cuffs and she was tugging him forward. “What’s all this then? I’ve not resisted… done just what you asked.”

She snarled, “Shut up,” and dragged him over to his chair then pushed him down to his knees in front of it. She hiked up her tight skirt and sat down, scooting her backside forward so that it hung off the edge of the cushion. “I’ve got some questions for you. Give me the right answers and I’ll let you go with just a warning.” She spread her legs then reached out and fisted her hand in his hair, pulling his head down. “So start talking. Now.”

He leaned forward and buried his face in her heat, licking up her folds then plunging his tongue inside. He moaned as her taste exploded on his tongue and started thrusting it hard. She pulled her legs up and held her knees as he shuffled closer. He replaced his tongue with two fingers and sucked her pulsing nub into his mouth as his thumb circled her trembling pucker. He slicked his thumb using the juices dripping from her molten quim and pushed in. She shouted and her hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair and pulling him impossibly closer. Her legs fell over his shoulders as he sucked and thrust and licked, putting a century’s worth of experience to good use. 

Her cry of release was loud in his ears, or it would’ve been if his head hadn’t been clamped tightly between her thighs as she clenched and convulsed around his fingers. She finally collapsed limply in the chair and her legs slid bonelessly off his shoulders as he dropped his hands. He lapped up her juices and gave one last gentle suck to her throbbing nub then raised his head. “Did that answer all your questions?”

She nodded as she sat up. “A lot of them… but…” Her eyes trailed down his chest and stopped at the hard cock bobbing against his stomach. “Now I need to take your statement.” She planted her hand in the middle of his chest and pushed… hard. 

He flew backwards and skidded across the dusty floor, narrowly avoiding slamming his head into his TV table. “Oi! That’s police brutality, that is! I’ve a mind to report you!”

She bounced out of the chair and moved to stand over him, one foot on either side of his hips as she lowered herself onto his throbbing member. His eyes rolled up as she lifted his bound hands over his head and leaned down to nibble on his bottom lip. “I don’t think you’ll do that to me, Spike, because if I get in trouble then I won’t be able to come back here… and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” She started rocking her hips as her hands trailed down his arms and tangled in his hair, pulling him into a kiss that seemed to go on forever.

When she came up for air, Spike shook his head as her lips trailed down his neck, nipping lightly. “No… God, no. Buffy… want you… love you.”

She lifted up, her hands sliding over his shoulders to his chest to brace herself as she lifted her hips and slammed them back down. She picked up the pace, riding him frantically as her nails dug into his skin. Suddenly she threw her head back and froze as she screamed at the cobwebbed ceiling, her walls squeezing and clenching around him, pulling him over the edge into bliss.

She collapsed onto his chest, drawing in great lungfuls of air as he lowered his arms and laid his hands lightly on her back. She rose up in the circle of his arms and brushed her lips across his as she murmured, “Love you, too, Spike. So much.” She lowered her head to his shoulder and heaved a giant sigh, her lips whispering against his neck. “I don’t care what my friends think about us. I love you and I’m going to be with you.”

He lifted his hands off her back and pulled against the cuffs, easily breaking the connecting chain, then he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. “God, Buffy, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

She lifted her head and looked down into his eyes, her own welling up with tears. “Let’s go tell them right now.”

He gave her a blinding smile then leaned up and captured her lips. “It’ll keep, luv. Just knowin’ you want to is enough for now.” He gently pushed her off him then stood and scooped her up, carrying her quickly across the crypt. He dropped through the hole into the lower level, landing lightly as Buffy clutched his neck and gave a small squeal. He chuckled as he carried her over to his bed and laid her down then crawled in next to her. He pulled the blankets over them both then wrapped her in his arms and murmured against her hair. “Get some rest and we’ll tell ‘em tomorrow. Love you, Buffy.”

She whispered, “Love you, Spike,” as sleep claimed her. His grin almost split his face in two as he pulled her tighter to his chest and followed her into slumber.


	2. Interesting

The Talisman

Chapter Two – Interesting

The sound of the crypt door scraping open drifted down into the lower level and Spike groaned, “Buffy? Better wake up, pet. Sounds like we’ve got company.”

He turned his head to look at her then yelped and bolted to a sitting position; regretting it immediately as his hangover blasted into him full force. He turned his head slowly, trying his best to keep the room from spinning like a top as he took in his surroundings. He was sitting on his bed fully dressed, duster and boots included, and there was no Buffy. There were also no broken cuffs on his wrists, but there was a bottle of Jack Daniels clutched in his left hand. He automatically lifted it to his mouth. Empty. Bugger. He could really use a little hair of the dog right now. He lowered his hand and let the bottle roll out of his fingers, wincing when it rolled off the bed and smashed onto the hard stone floor. 

He sat with his eyes closed and tried to sort through the jumble of confusing images flitting through his pickled brain. He remembered going to Willy’s and drinking enough liquor to kill five humans. He also vaguely remembered smashing a bottle of cheap whiskey over the head of a Fyarl demon. Things after that were a bit blurry and painful. His head making a dent in the dumpster behind Willy’s as the Fyarl demon’s friends tossed him through the back door was somewhat clear, but everything after that was a complete blank. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to make it home.

Most of his evening might have been a bit fuzzy, but everything that had happened with Buffy was sharp and clear. He thought on that for a few seconds as the fog in his brain started to lift and his eyes snapped wide open as realization hit. “It was a bloody dream. All of it. From her showin’ up here dressed like a soddin’ bobbie to fallin’ asleep in my bed.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Bloody hell, it felt so real.”

He dropped his hands just as Buffy’s stylish yet affordable boots appeared at the top of the ladder. She climbed down then stood somewhat nervously across the room, fidgeting with the stake clutched in her hand and he muttered under his breath, “Should’ve known it was a dream right from the off. Slayer never knocks on **my** door… just barges in like she bloody owns the place.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“I’ve the mother of all hangovers and you dragged me out of my nice, comfy bed to go on a bleedin’ scavenger hunt? Well sod that.” He turned and started stomping back toward his crypt.

“Spike!” Buffy yelled after him, but he just waved his hand angrily in the air and continued to stomp. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Spike… please.”

He froze with one foot in the air, the ‘please’ slicing through his anger like a knife. He slowly lowered his foot and turned to face Buffy. “So… it’s as bad as all that then? Must be practically apocalyptic to get you to say ‘please’ to me.”

Buffy nodded. “It’s bad.”

Spike stepped closer and took a seat on a nearby tombstone, fishing in his duster pockets for his smokes and lighter. “Well, let’s have it then, Slayer. The marchin’ band bangin’ round inside my skull doesn’t have all bleedin’ night.”

Buffy leaned against a mausoleum across from Spike and sighed, not able to look at him as she mumbled, “The artifact we’re looking for transmits dreams.”

Spike snorted. “So? That doesn’t sound bad enough to make the almighty Slayer dust off her manners for a ‘thing,’ now does it?”

Her eyes flicked to him for just a second then dropped to the ground. “It’s bad. Imagine if you had a dream about your boss or your teacher or something and this thing transmitted all your thoughts and feelings and everything right to them. If you dreamed bad things about them like telling them off or whatever, you could get fired or flunked or something. It could ruin lives! People could freak out and try to hurt the people they’d dreamed about, or if they’d dreamed about s..secret feelings… feelings that they haven’t even admitted to themselves… and then those feelings are transmitted… It’s buckets of badness, Spike.”

Inside, Spike was reeling from shock as he quickly put two and two together, but on the outside, he merely quirked his eyebrow. “So how’s this thing work then? Whose dreams get transmitted? Is there some kind of pattern?”

Her eyes flicked to him again before she looked away. “Yeah. Giles found a book about it… that didn’t have any pictures, of course, so I have no idea what the thing looks like, but it’s to help women… uh… figure out who they’re supposed to… uh… mate with. It’s a fate thing. The book said that it’s been used for centuries by some tribe in Africa and he has no idea why or how it got here.”

“So… whoever the birds dream about is who they’re fated to be with? And that information is transmitted to the bloke?”

Buffy threw him an appraising glance as she nodded. “Yeah. That way they both know and nobody else in the tribe can get pissy about it when she makes her choice.” 

She dropped her gaze to the ground again and Spike almost fell off his tombstone. _‘So she really loves me and she wants to be with me despite the Scoobs._ His eyes skated over her trembling frame then he scented the air. _And she’s terrified.’_ Fear and confusion were rolling off her in waves so he did the only thing he could do. He lied. “So what the bleedin’ hell’s it got to do with me? The dead don’t dream.” He smiled at the immense relief that suffused her entire body and took a long drag on his cigarette then tucked his tongue behind his teeth, already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask. “Did you have a dream, luv?”

She blushed and nervously shuffled her feet. “Don’t call me that and yes… I did.” 

His smirk grew more pronounced because he already knew the answer to his next question as well, but watching her squirm and blush was just too much fun. “Who did you dream about… **luv**?”

She pushed away from the mausoleum, fist raised and ready to strike. “None of your freaking business! Just get off your pasty vampire butt and let’s go find this thing before it gets worse!”

Spike snarled and jumped off his tombstone, meeting her halfway. “No! You still haven’t told me what the bloody hell this little dream transmitter has to do with me, and if you can’t treat me with even a modicum of respect then you can just go find it your bloody self!”

Buffy deflated and her arm dropped to her side as she gritted out, “I’m… sorry, Spike.” She winced at his barely muffled snort and took a deep, bracing breath. “It has to do with you because you’re the only one who can touch it because you’re a demon, so I…” another deep, bracing breath, “need you.”

“And what’s the magic word?” She threw him a glare that should’ve dusted him on the spot and he tsked, “Oh come now, you’ve already said it once, you can say it again. C’mon, Slayer, just six little letters.” Her glare was increasing in intensity and he smirked, “And put ‘em together nicely or I’m out of here.”

Her fists clenched and her lips tightened as she said, “Please,” in the politest tone she could muster through her gritted teeth.

Spike taunted, “Bet that hurt, didn’t it, Slayer?”

She muttered under her breath, “You have no idea,” then looked up at him. “So will you help me?”

He smirked and shrugged. “Yeah, I s’pose, since you asked nicely.” And that earned him another should be dusty glare as he dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot. “So, where to first?”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

The cave was dark and damp and the floor was littered with the bones of small animals that crunched under their feet as they made their way toward the faint light at the far end. Spike shifted into his demon guise in order to see better and asked quietly, “You sure this is the place? That room up ahead is full of vamps, Slayer.” He inhaled deeply, “At least a couple dozen.”

Buffy consulted the small charm she had clutched in her hand. “Yeah. Tara said this thing would glow red when we were close to something with magical power, so it’s got to be here. Or there’s something else magical in that room.” She pocketed the charm and pulled her stake. “Guess we’ll find out. You ready?”

Spike smirked, “Always ready for a good scrap, luv, but twelve on one might be a bit much. Why not let me go in alone? Bein’ a vamp and all, they probably won’t attack me and I could snatch the trinket then lead them back up the tunnel there.” He nodded back the way they’d come. “You could wait round the corner and we’d stake ‘em as they come runnin’ by. Even up the odds a mite.”

Buffy looked pensive as her eyes travelled from one end of the cave to the other. Finally she sighed, “I guess.” Her eyes narrowed as they focused on the shadowy shape of Spike, his hair the only part of him she could see clearly. “But you’d better not double cross me, Spike. I’m not even close to kidding. If you do anything even remotely fishy…”

Spike waved his hand dismissively as he started for the room, “Yeah, yeah, you’ll stake me good and proper. Sing me another one, Slayer, that one’s gone stale. You just haul your delectable little arse back up the tunnel and I’ll be along shortly, bauble in hand.”

He smirked to himself as her grumbled, “Stupid vampire,” drifted across the wide open space. He slipped silently along the wall, extending his senses to their limit as he got closer to the room. It seemed that two dozen had been a conservative estimate being that he could now sense closer to forty vampires milling around a medium size room about thirty feet along a small tunnel. 

He pulled up to his full height and injected a load of Big Bad swagger into his gait as he walked purposefully toward the group of vampires, stepping into the room with a bellowed, “Oi! What’s this I hear ‘bout some powerful artifact?”

A scruffy vampire with long, unkempt hair spun around and fixed Spike with a baleful glare as he spat, “Spike. What the hell is the Slayer’s chipped little lapdog doing here? Shouldn’t you be licking her boots or polishing her stakes or something?”

Spike flashed across the room and had his hand wrapped around the vampire’s throat in the blink of an eye. He lifted the larger man clean off the floor as he snarled, “Lapdog? Think you’ve confused me with someone else, mate.” He shook the younger vampire, smirking around his fangs at his sputtering and choking. “This chip may keep me from feedin’ on the Happy Meals, but it doesn’t keep me from dustin’ your worthless arse.”

He tossed the vampire across the room, flattening half a dozen vampires, then turned around and tucked his thumbs into his belt. “So, who’s in charge ‘round here?”

A smallish vampire was pushed forward by the three females standing behind him and he bowed his head respectfully as he stuttered, “Master Spike… um… that would be Eddie… the vampire you just threw over there.” He nodded toward the scruffy vampire that was being helped to his feet.

Spike grinned at the deference he was suddenly being shown. Ever since the chip, he’d been treated as the lowest of the low by both the demon and human worlds and having someone show him respect greatly bolstered his flagging ego. He puffed his chest out a little more. “Is he now? Interesting.” He fished a stake out of his inside pocket and whipped it across the cave, embedding it deeply into Eddie’s chest and growling, “Not anymore,” as Eddie exploded into dust.

He clapped his hands together as the gaggle of vampires gaped at Eddie’s swirling dust cloud. “So… who wants to tell me ‘bout this doodad?”


	3. Motor Boat

The Talisman  
Chapter Three – Motor Boat

Spike sauntered through the cave, tossing the statue from hand to hand as he closed on the Slayer’s position. He heard the miniscule scraping that meant she was about to launch an attack and called out, “Keep the stake to yourself, Slayer, ‘s just me.”

Buffy peeked around the corner, her eyes widening at the sight of Spike… all by himself. “Where’s the vampires?”

Spike nodded back over his shoulder. “Left ‘em back there. Told ‘em I’d be back to collect ‘em later and not to leave ‘til I did.”

Buffy’s eyes got just a little bit wider. “And they listened to you because…”

Spike’s grin almost split his face in two. “I’m their new Master. Dusted the old one and gained myself a pile of minions. I’ve just won myself a proper Vampire Court.”

Buffy gaped at him, her stake hand falling listlessly to her side. “You… you’re… Master? A court?” Her grip tightened on her stake as she started to raise it again, a look of grim resignation settling onto her features.

Spike took a step back and held up the hand not holding the statue. “Now just hold on, Slayer. Not gonna let you stake me just ‘cause I’ve got some of my rocks back. And yeah, I’m a Master… have been for decades, pet. The buggerin’ chip may have taken my ability to feed, but it didn’t erase my status. I’m still a Master Vampire of the Aurelian line, and I’m the oldest and most experienced vampire in Sunnydale, so it’s only right that I be in charge.”

Buffy took a step forward. “I can’t let you take over Sunnydale, Spike.”

“And why not? You know I’d never do anythin’ to harm you, the Bit, or any of the Scoobies. Haven’t I proved that? Over and over? Fought beside you to save the bleedin’ world then kept your merry band of white hats alive while you were gone. Think it’s safe to say I’ve switched sides. I’m not after redemption like my git of a Grandsire, but you know I’ll keep my word. You need to cut through all that shit your Watcher’s been feedin’ you all these years – demons bad – humans good. It’s crap, Slayer, every bit of it. The world’s not black and white, it’s all shades of gray and the sooner you suss that out, the better off you’ll be.”

“But…”

“No buts, Buffy. You’ve been fightin’ alone for how many years when you could’ve been usin’ demons to your advantage. There’s tons of demons in this town that like the world just the way it is and will fight to keep it that way. If you’d tapped that resource to help against Glory, you might not have…”

“Had to die.”

“Right. Now, take off those Council blinders and really think about this. If I’m in charge of the Sunnydale vampires and I’m on your side then…”

“They’re on my side.”

Spike touched the end of his nose with a fingertip. “Got it in one, pet.” He held up the statue. “Got the transmitter. The git I dusted thought it was some kind of talisman that, once activated, would make you lose your powers and he’d be able to kill you. Apparently they were just about to perform the activation ritual when I showed up. Who knows what that kind of mojo would’ve actually done to this thing.” Buffy was standing there staring blankly at the statue and Spike snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Slayer?”

She startled and blinked. “Sorry… just… uh… a lot of things to think about.”

Spike stuffed the statue into his pocket and motioned toward the cave entrance. “I’m sure. Let’s get this trinket to your Watcher then I’ve things to do.”

She looked up at him as they made their way out of the cave. “What things?”

Spike cast her a sideways glance. “Gotta find new digs for one. Can’t properly rule a court from a crypt, now can I?” He pulled out a smoke and his lighter. “Think I’ll move into the mansion. It’s large enough… make a right proper lair.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike pulled the statue from his pocket and made like he was going to toss it to Rupert, chuckling when the Watcher darted to the side. “Where’d you want me to put it, Watcher? Not gonna come back here every time you need to dust, so pick a proper spot and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Rupert pointed to a large metal chest in the corner of the room. “Please put it in there. A Council team will be here in the morning to return it to its rightful owners.”

Spike eased the statue into the chest, snugging it gently into the cushioning. “And how’s that going to work being that only demons can touch it? I highly doubt the Council’s employin’ demons these days.”

“No, they’re not. That chest has a magical dampening field imbedded in it, so it’s safe for humans to carry.”

Spike nodded. “Right. Well, I’m off.” He started for the door then looked back over his shoulder. “Slayer?”

Buffy jerked and Giles shot her an inquisitive look. “Buffy? Are you all right?”

She nodded distractedly. “Yeah… just thinking. Um… I should go.”

Spike smirked. “You want me to walk you, Slayer? You seem a bit out of it. Wouldn’t want some nasty to get hold of you ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ to pay attention to your surroundings.”

She squared her shoulders then shook her head as she walked past him to the door. “No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She pulled the door open and called back over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Giles.”

Giles called out his goodbye as Spike pulled the door closed. He jogged to catch up with Buffy who had already made it to the street. “Buffy, hold up, need to talk to you.”

She didn’t stop walking as she held up her hand. In fact, she started walking faster. “Not now, Spike. I’m tired. Just go do… whatever it is you do, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Spike stopped and waited until she’d gotten a bit of distance before he called out, “Fine, Slayer, just had a question, is all. Ever think about goin’ into law enforcement? Flippin’ burgers isn’t really your thing and I bet you’d look right tasty in a uniform… in fact… I **know** you would.”

Buffy stuttered to a halt and slowly turned around. Her eyes seemed to take up half her face as her mouth dropped open and the stake she’d been clutching slid right out of her suddenly noodly fingers to land on the sidewalk with a small thud. Then she started making a noise that sounded a lot like a motor boat engine, “Bu… bu…bu…bu… you said you don’t dream! You lied!”

Spike smiled as he started backing away. “Only said that to let you off the hook, Slayer. And I’m not pushin’ you now, either. I only brought it up to let you know that I know, and I understand that you’re not ready to admit it yet.” He stuffed his hands into his duster pockets as he continued to move away. “You know where I’ll be when you are. I love you, Buffy.” He smiled softly then disappeared into the shadows with a swirl of black leather.

Buffy stood there for a long time staring at the spot where he’d disappeared into the darkness then she bent and scooped her stake off the sidewalk and started for home. She had a lot of thinking to do. A small smile curved her lips as she realized that all her thinking would involve the best way to break the news to the Scoobies that she was in love with another vampire… and where she could go to pick up a uniform and some handcuffs.


End file.
